


Cooking With Castiel

by onlybritainisgreat (frecklesarechocolate)



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is a BAMF in the kitchen, Cooking, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/onlybritainisgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel makes dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking With Castiel

Dean Winchester is no stranger to the weird and surreal. However, there is really nothing quite so surreal as seeing an angel of the Lord in the kitchen, shirtsleeves pushed up to his elbows, humming over what looks to be a raw chicken.

“What’s cookin’, Cas?” Dean asks, leaning against the entranceway.

Cas looks up from the chicken and smiles at Dean. “I’m trying a new dish. It’s called chicken paprikash. It’s Hungarian.”

Dean refrains from making a joke about being Hungary, knowing that it will be wasted on Cas. “Sounds interesting, Cas. When will it be ready?”

Cas lifts one of the giant cooking knives out of the block on the counter and begins to chop the chicken up into smaller pieces. He removes the legs and wings before he responds. “It will take about an hour to cook, once I get it in the pot.” Dean makes a disappointed noise, because, restraint from bad puns aside, he really is hungry. Cas frowns at Dean. “It will take less time to get it in the pot if you help.”

Dean pushes off the doorjamb and saunters over to Cas. He hooks his chin over Cas’s shoulder (the one not holding the knife, thank you) and watches Cas as he works. “Yeah? Looks like you’ve got things pretty much in hand here.” And it shouldn’t be sexy watching Cas cut up raw chicken, but there’s something about the way he holds the knife, how his long and graceful fingers arrange the chicken just so that sends a warm swirl of want low in his gut. He kisses Cas’s neck gently, ghosting his lips right over Cas’s pulse point. Cas’s breath hitches slightly, but he pushes Dean back with an elbow.

“Dean.” He tilts his head towards the fridge. “Why don’t you chop up the onion that’s in the bin?” Cas returns his attention to the chicken, and Dean doesn’t feel jealous of a chicken carcass, not at all.

Dean huffs, but does as he’s told, grabbing another knife, a cutting board and the onion. The kitchen is filled with the sounds of chopping, and then, shortly, sniffling, as the onion makes Dean’s eyes water. He knows that this is a normal response to the onion, and he really tries not to take his irritation out on the vegetable, but Cas did want the thing chopped, didn’t he? He looks down at the pile of teeny, tiny onion pieces and hopes that Cas didn’t need them to be bigger.

He washes the knife and his hands carefully, making sure to get as much of the onion juice off as he can before announcing to Cas that he’s finished.

“Oh excellent. This looks perfect, thank you, Dean.” Cas leans over and kisses Dean on the cheek before picking up the onion and adding it to the large saucepan on the stove. Dean takes this to be a dismissal of sorts, so he returns to his spot on the doorjamb and watches Cas cook.

Watching Cas move has always been a favorite pastime of Dean’s – he was beautiful in battle, all economical moves and grace, and in the kitchen, Cas is no different. He makes no unnecessary movements, and wastes no energy. Everything he needs is to hand and he moves from one part of the recipe to the next with efficiency and beauty. Dean’s struck by the elegance in every step that Cas makes, and once again is reminded that beneath the holy tax accountant nerd is a being of extraordinary beauty.

It takes his breath away, because this being is in a kitchen, making them dinner, for crying out loud. And from the smell of it, it’s going to be fucking fantastic.

Cas looks at Dean, as if he’s sensed Dean watching him, and he smiles. He smiles much more than he ever used to, although the smiles are still small things, mostly in the crinkles around his blue eyes, and less so with his lips, but Dean can tell that there is genuine happiness and feeling behind those smiles. He returns the smile with one of his own, and a wink for added measure.  This makes Cas’s smile grow even larger, and he’s practically beaming now, warmth and happiness radiating off of him.

They stare at each other like that for a few minutes, all but grinning at each other like loons, until the chicken makes a loud popping noise, and Cas’s attention is drawn back to the cooking. Dean takes this as a sign that dinner is going to be forthcoming fairly soon, so he grabs some plates, forks and knives and sets the table. He hesitates for a moment, and then opens the breakfront and pulls out a couple of candles and puts them in the center of the table. He lights them and steps back to survey his work.

It’s dorky and cheesy and romantic, and he’ll deny it to his dying day, but it looks perfect, and he’s pleased because he thinks Cas will like it too.

A few minutes later, Cas brings out two dishes from the kitchen, one filled with what Cas once explained to him was called spaetzle, German dumplings, and the other with the chicken. It’s a dark, reddish brown now, covered in gravy and it smells heavenly. Dean sits in one chair while Cas sits in the other, and Cas serves the food. His eyes sparkle at the lit candles as he hands Dean a plateful of food, and they both quickly dig in.

It’s delicious, of course, as is just about everything that’s come out of the kitchen under Cas’s hands, and Dean makes all kinds of approving noises that would be considered indecent in public (but he’d probably make them there, too). Cas looks pleased, even slightly puffed up as he watches Dean enjoy the food.

After Dean’s had two and a half helpings (he finishes Cas’s second plateful), he pushes away from the table with a satisfied groan. “Cas, that was fucking amazing, dude.”

“Thank you, Dean.” He stands and leans over Dean to give him a long, heady kiss, one that tastes of paprika and red wine, and Dean could get drunk on that kiss, but before he has a chance to really get into it, Cas pulls away. “Since I cooked, I think you should do the dishes.” Cas heads into the living room, leaving Dean gaping at his retreating back.

“Son of a bitch!”

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been translated into Chinese, and you can read it [here](http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=101585).


End file.
